


bartered with bone

by alamorn



Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-19 04:42:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2374973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alamorn/pseuds/alamorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a thousand different ways Kate could have met the Geckos. They all start the same: preacher's daughter, criminal brothers. They all end the same: together and bloody.</p><p>When destiny catches up with Kate, she sees them all</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write AUs. Sorry if there's any characterization wonkiness. I feel like I can't get their voices quite right.

Kate did everything she could to lose that purity that haunted her in the Titty Twister. Had a few one night stands with men whose names she didn’t know, robbed a bank. Two, actually, with Seth laughing in her ear. Loved a girl, too, though not for any reason but she wanted to. Killed monsters. Killed a lot of monsters. Couldn’t bring herself to kill anything else, even when Seth looked at her and said, “That’s the only thing could dirty your soul, Katie.”

None of it worked. She kept ending up strapped to tables or kneeling over bowls, always always always with a knife to her throat or breast. She always managed to free herself, or at least hold out until Seth could come do it for her – until now.

Even as the obsidian blade arced down, she didn’t believe it was really happening. Seth would charge in, or she’d manage to hit the right note or –  
It didn’t even hurt. Instead, it made her understand what Richie meant, about looking and finally being able to see.

Time slowed, dilated, and a thousand possible lives unfolded before her eyes.


	2. Stuck in an Elevator

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there's an AUs you want to see, let me know. I'm gonna keep this going as long as I can.

She meets them in an elevator. She’s an intern at the news station, arms laden with files, and as the elevator doors close a suit clad arm blocks them. The arm is followed inside by a man so handsome Kate has to drop her gaze to her shoes, and then he’s followed by another, carrying a briefcase.

They’re both wearing suits. The first has a few buttons undone, the second is buttoned up tight. Combined with the glasses, he looks like a too-intense executive.

The first hits the button for the fifth floor and grins at her. His smile is sharp and insincere. “Hey, how ya doing,” he says and without waiting for a response turns to hiss something at the other. All she can hear is, “Goddammit, Richie,” and that’s enough to make her focus even harder on her shoes.

They’re black Mary Janes, because that seemed like the sort of shoes she should wear for an internship. There’s a scuff on the left one because she drags her feet and she hates these shoes too much to polish them.

Kate successfully ignores the men until the elevator grinds to a halt shortly after they pass the third floor. The lights flicker and go out. After a moment of stunned silence, the emergency lights go on, bathing everything in blue.

The one in glasses laughs without any sort of humor. “I shouldn’t have had that horchata earlier.”

“We won’t be here long,” says the other one, with the sort of confidence Kate has only ever seen in boys too angry at the world to see it.

She coughs. They glance at her and she says, “If a big part of the grid lost power, we’re low priority.”

“What the hell, this is a news station, why isn’t there a generator,” glasses says without any real heat.

“This is the least popular local news station. They can’t afford a generator and good cameras.”

The first one finally looks at her for more than a moment. “I’m Seth,” he says. “This is my brother, Richie. Your name is?”

“Kate,” she says, thinks about juggling files to shake his hand, then considers the near future and just puts them down. “What are you here for?”

Glasses – Richie smiles, a slow predatory sort of smile. “I have issues with how some of the stories are reported. I’m here to complain.”

“Oh,” she says, trying to think of what could have offended someone enough that they came in. “I’m sorry. What stories?”

Seth shoots her a charming smile as he digs an elbow into Richie’s ribs. “Enough about us,” he says. “What about you?”

It’s such a blatant evasion that she’s almost insulted, but this is an unpaid internship and there’s a blister on her big toe the size of Saturn, so she lets it slide. “I’m an intern,” she says. “I’m supposed to be learning about the process of selecting which stories get coverage, but I really just carry things.”

“That’s such a waste,” Richie says, brows furrowing. “You shouldn’t let them squander your talents like that.”

Kate has to laugh. “What talents? I’m seventeen, my talents are limited to sulking and disobeying my parents in meaningless ways.”

“Such as?” Richie has such sweet blue eyes and he seems so earnest as Seth huffs and drops to the floor that Kate can’t help the words coming out of her mouth.

“Making out with my boyfriend in the back of the church. Telling my youth group about the fun parts of the Bible, not just the ones I’m supposed to.”

“Youth group?”

Kate touches her cross self-consciously. Normally, she can shrug off people’s incredulity without trouble but for some reason she wants this man to like her. “My daddy is a pastor. And I like it! I do, but sometimes,” she shrugs, “well. I’ve never slept in on a Sunday, and I have to participate in the community.” She recites the last by rote, her daddy’s words rolling off her tongue with ease.

“Sounds boring,” Seth says, and she bristles. It only takes a breath to settle herself again, as used to this as she is.

“And what do you do?”

“Crime,” Richie says and Seth’s lip twitches.

“What my brother means,” he starts to say when Richie interrupts.

“What I mean is that we’re criminals. Thieves, specifically, although that sometimes overlaps with assault and battery. Quite frequently, really.”

Seth massages the bridge of his nose as Kate stares, open mouthed. Before they can say anything else she sinks to the ground and presses her back up against the cold metal wall of the elevator.

“Are you going to steal from the station? Because I don’t think they have much worth stealing,” she babbles.

“No, we’re here to send a message,” Seth says, obviously giving up.

“Why would you choose this station? They’re so trashy.” Kate’s not sure why she’s still talking. “I’d think you’d want a place with a better reputation than ‘What’s really in your water?’”

Richie shrugs. “Why did you?”

“My daddy knows the main newscaster.”

“Ah,” says Seth. “Nepotism.”

Kate flushes a little but doesn’t protest. He’s right, after all.

Richie sits next to her while Seth gets back to his feet and paces and stares at the ceiling, the crease of the door. Kate inches away until he stares meaningfully at the movement of her hand.

Seth says, “Hey, do you think I could pop that open if you gave me a boost?”

Richie looks at Seth and looks at the ceiling and says, “I’m not picking your fat ass up if you’re not sure.”

“You have any better ideas?” Seth asks, voice sharp.

“Wait,” Richie says. “Give them twenty minutes to get it working again.”

Seth settles, a line of tension in his shoulders. “You’re taking this all very well, Richard.”

“Good company,” Richie says, with a smile like snakes. It’s slow, predatory, and it should scare the hell out of her. All of this should scare the hell out of her, but she feels strangely at ease, like something has slid into place. Her daddy would be appalled.

“What do you steal?” Kate asks, leaning her head back and staring at the ceiling.

Seth snorts, but Richie talks. “Money. Bonds, jewels, art. The normal things.”

“Is it fun?” she says, eyes fixed away from them. Seth looms over her, and she shuts her eyes. He laughs and moves away.

“Yeah, it’s fun, princess,” he says and she opens her eyes again, watches him. He moves like a cat, all languid but with a core of suppressed energy. She wants to see him work. “It’s the best feeling you can imagine.”

“I believe you,” she whispers, mouth dry. Richie tilts his head at her.

“Better than sex,” he says and she blushes, bites her cheek.

Seth starts to make a contradictory noise, then stops, sits against the doors so he faces them. “Some sex and some takes, yeah. Better foreplay, with a job.”

Her face is hot and she wants to bury it in her hands, but that would be even more embarrassing, so she keeps her chin up, muscles working in her jaw. “I wouldn’t know,” she says, aiming for indifferent and hitting squeaky.

“Yeah?” says Seth, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Which one?”

Both, she doesn’t say. I’m a good girl, she doesn’t say. What do you think? she doesn’t say. “That’s an awfully personal question,” she says.

“Come on,” he says, amused and wheedling. “We’re sharing so much, getting so close. You don’t want to tell two strangers your darkest secrets?”

“Sometimes it’s easier to talk to strangers,” Richie says, pupils huge.

Kate breathes, in, out, levels her gaze. “I’m not Catholic. I don’t do confession.”

“We were raised Catholic, weren’t we, Richie?”

“Well, raised is a strong word.”

“Born, then.”

“Yeah, the contraceptive thing’s a bitch.”

They volleyed so easily, not missing a beat and Kate felt almost voyeuristic, watching them. There was a secret world there that she wasn’t invited to see, and that’s fine, it is, it’s just…Kate has never known anyone she can be as easy with as the brothers are.

“Aw,” Richie says, “I gotta piss.”

“Hold it,” Seth snaps. “Or boost me up.”

“Fine,” Richie says, and takes a knee under the panel. “Don’t kick me in the face this time.”

“No promises,” Seth says as he steps up, balancing himself by yanking Richie’s hair. He pushes the tile up and it goes easily. He grins and grabs the edge, pulls himself up kicking and swearing. Richie dodges a flailing foot, with the expression of an offended cat.

When he gets up there, Seth pokes his head back through the hole and says, “I can see the doors. Either of you got something to pry them open with?”

Richie gives his brother a sideways smile and clicks open the briefcase. Kate peers over his shoulder and gasps. It’s a whole damned armory, guns and knifes and zip ties. Richie turns to look at her and their faces are so close she can feel his breath on her lips. Kate jerks away and Richie grabs a knife, an ugly, practical thing, seemingly formed of one continuous piece of steel.

“You’re not going to use any of that on me, are you?” she asks, voice not quite trembling. Her pulse flutters madly in her throat and Richie’s eyes follow the line of her neck until he lands on her eyes.

“Only if you ask nicely,” he says, and, “Seth, heads up,” as he tosses the knife up. Seth’s hand snaps out to catch it, with no following yelp of pain.

There’s a lot of metallic scraping noises up above, and then a coo of triumph. “Come on, Richie. There’s a man as needs threatening, just waiting for us to get there and do it for him.”

Richie stands and reaches up, Seth’s arms appearing through the hole in the ceiling. They clasp each other’s forearms, and then with a leap and a grunt, Richie’s slithering up and out.

Kate breathes, the air thin around her. “After you’re done,” she calls, and Seth looks down at her, Richie’s face coming right after, “could you remind people that I’m in here?”

Seth smiles. “Can do, princess.”

“And if you’re ever bored,” Richie says, “give us a call.”

She doesn’t ask, how? Instead, she smiles, teeth sharp, and says, “I will.”

 

It takes another two hours for her to be retrieved. In that time, she reads all of the files she was carrying, and finds several inconsistencies in the numbers. When she follows up on it later, she finds an executive embezzling.

She blackmails him, expecting it to leave a bad taste in her mouth. When it doesn’t, she bribes the guy who writes the scrolling text to put, “SET ME FREE” in the scroll.

Two weeks later, at the bank, a gun presses into her lower back and Richie hisses, “Hey there, princess,” in her ear as Seth shouts, “Hands up, and no heroics!”


	3. Bonnie and Clyde and Clyde

She’s in the gas station to get a Coke when a very pretty man walks in. He’s wearing a suit and glasses and his face seems entirely made from angles. He sees her looking and smiles. She blushes, looks away, turns to check out.

A large hand latches onto her elbow and she whirls, thumps into a broad chest. Kate knows who it is before she looks up, resigned to her bad luck. The man smiles down at her.

“Hi,” he says. “You look sad.”

“What?” she blurts.

“You look sad,” he says again, slow and patient like he’s talking to a child. “Are you okay?”

“I’m not sad,” she says, because she can’t think of anything else to say. “I’m bored.”

That smile gets wider, almost frighteningly so. “I can help with that.”

“How?” she says, stupidly. Why is she even talking to this man? He’s obviously off, in some way.

“Have you ever seen a robbery up close and personal?”

Her stomach lurches, her mouth goes dry. “No,” she whispers.

“Do you want to?”

And because she’s bored and stupid, she says, “I don’t believe you.”

He glances around and pulls out a gun. It’s large and shiny and her hands are reaching for it before her mind catches up. His finger is well off the trigger, but it’s aimed firmly at her. It’s warm from his body and she imagines she can feel it pulse like a living creature.

“Do you need more proof?” he asks and she’s so, so stupid, because she says, “This is Texas, everyone and their mother has a gun.”

Not that she’s ever touched one before. Her daddy wouldn’t stand for guns in his house, and she never cared enough to go behind his back. The man doesn’t seem to know how to stop smiling.

“Come on,” he says, tucking the gun away. “Let me buy you that Coke.”

So she walks with him to the counter, half-expecting him to pull the gun again, half-believing he’s just some asshole trying to look tough. He pays and leaves without a fuss, catching her by the arm and pulling her outside. He leads her to a car and says, “Wait here.”

He disappears into the – oh Christ, that’s a bank, she forgot there was a bank across the street from this gas station, oh, he’s a real robber, oh, is she an accomplice now?

And yet she doesn’t move, just chews her nails in a habit she hasn’t indulged in four years. He and another man explode out of the door, guns drawn, but there’s no police and there’s no excuse for him to pull her into the car behind him, but he does it anyway. She’s crammed in the back with a duffle bag full of cash in her lap, hysterical laughter starting to bubble out of her when the other man says, “Richard, what the _hell_.”

“Oh, yes,” he says. “That was very rude of me. I’m Richie. This is my brother Seth.”

“I’m Kate,” she says, and she’s running out of excuses for the way she’s not panicking, not upset.

“Why do we have a hostage, Richard,” Seth says.

“She’s not a hostage,” Richie says, sounding offended. “She’s a friend. We met in the store.”

Seth drags a hand down his face. “You went to the store to get cigarettes, not a _friend_.”

“And yet,” Richie says, completely at peace as Seth takes a wild corner before merging smoothly into traffic, “here we are.”

“You were right,” she says and he looks at her with those big blue eyes. “I’m not bored anymore.”

“I never lie, Kate.”

Seth snorts. “Except for all the times you lie your damn ass off.”

“Yes, Seth, excepting those times, I never lie.”

Kate blinks, positive she’s enjoying this much more than she should.

 

It takes about an hour for her to realize that she’s not going home again. Well, she knew that, but she didn’t know it, you know? It hadn’t sunk in. So about an hour into the drive, staring at a whole lot of nothing, Kate says, “My daddy is going to kill me.”

Seth glances back at her. “Only if he catches you.”

She barely hears him over the ringing in her ears. She’s not going to graduate high school. She was set for honor roll, had scholarships lined up, and now she’s going to be a drop out, unless she gets home somehow. And she doesn’t really want to go home. At home, she feels like she’s dying, slowly and in increments, and because she smiles and laughs, no one notices.

Scott is in his rebellious phase, playing his guitar loudly and staying out late, but Kate never got to have a rebellious phase. God, her parents would probably have preferred a little bit of rebellion to _running away with criminals she’s just met,_ but apparently that’s what she’s doing instead.

“I’ve never even broken curfew,” she whispers and Seth massages the bridge of his nose.

“Really, Richie?”

Richie ignores him and swivels in his seat to look back at her. His eyes are so intense. She feels like she’s being devoured alive, a mouse frozen before a snake. “You’ll like it,” he says.

“Where are we going?” she asks, not _where are you taking me?_ She’s never been a very good liar, or not to herself anyway. She’s better than her daddy thinks she is, because he sees what he wants to see when he looks at her, and what he wants to see is a picture perfect preachers daughter.

“Mexico,” says Richie. “It’s a much more interesting place to be.”

“But first we’re going to rob another bank,” Seth says, and she catches his gaze through the rearview mirror. “And if you’re staying with us, you’re helping.”

Her stomach clamps down to a tight spot of pain, and her hands start shaking. “What,” she tries to say, and her voice cracks. She clears her throat, twisting her fingers together. “What do you want me to do?”

Seth smiles, and he’s beautiful and terrifying and Kate wants to slot herself into the space between Seth and Richie. “You’re going to be our hostage.”

Kate nods, slowly. If they have a plant, they don’t have to worry about a hostage trying to be heroic, they don’t have to worry about getting rid of the hostage after, and no one knows she’s with them, yet. It’s a good plan. And Kate can definitely stand around looking scared.

Seth cranks the music up, cutting off any further conversation. He pulls from a bottle of whiskey every once in a while, but his driving doesn’t suffer, so she doesn’t say anything. Richie props his feet up on the dash and smokes out the window, looking far away. Kate’s phone buzzes in her pocket and she jumps.

She pulls it out, stares at _Daddy_ flashing across the screen. “What should I do?” she asks.

“Answer it,” Richie says, as Seth turns the radio off. “Tell him you lost track of time or something.”

She takes a deep breath and gets ready to lie. “Hi, Daddy.”

His voice crackles with worry and interference. “Katie-cakes, where are you? You were supposed to be home an hour ago.”

“What time is it?” she asks, and pauses to check the clock. Sure enough, she’d promised to be home an hour ago. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Daddy. I went to the library to work on that history project and I lost track of time. Can I stay a few more hours?”

He doesn’t say anything for a long time, then, “I checked the library, Katie.”

“You probably came by while I was in the bathroom,” she says, and wipes her sweaty palms on her shorts. “I’m hiding in the stacks, anyway, didn’t want to get bothered. I really am sorry, Daddy.”

Her daddy has never caught her in a lie before, doesn’t even know she can lie, so he sighs heavily and believes her. “Okay, Katie. Be sure to be home for dinner, okay?”

“I will, Daddy,” she says, crossing her fingers like a child. “Give Mom and Scott my love.”

“See you soon, Katie-cakes,” he says and she hangs up, guilty and exhilarated.

“Katie-cakes?” Richie says, eyebrow raised.

“Shut up,” she says, face going hot.

“You’ll be great, Katie-cakes,” Seth says, sing-song. “A budding career criminal.”

“Don’t call me that,” she snaps, and Seth’s lip curls in – amusement, it must be.

“All right,” he says. “You ready to play hostage?”

“Now?”

“We’re almost there. Get your game face on, princess.”

Kate gnaws on her lip a little, nods. “I’m ready.”

Richie turns, eyes intent on hers. “You’ll go in first, get in the longest line. A few minutes later, we’ll come in, and I’ll grab you. Seth will give instructions, and all you have to do is look sweet and scared.”

“I can do that,” she says.

 

The bank is nice, lots of marble and air conditioning so intense she shivers. She’s the youngest person there by herself, and she aims for the longest line like Richie told her to and waits, arms crossed and foot tapping.

The line moves slowly and Kate feels like she’s suffocating until the door slams open and the brothers come in with their guns out. She screams when Richie cold cocks the security guard, only half faked, and holds very still when Seth points a gun at her.

“Hands where I can see them!” he bellows, and the clerks put their hands up fast. Richie slithers around and grabs her, arm a band of iron pinning her arms to her sides, gun cold where it bites into her temple.

“Good citizens,” Seth says, with a voice like a salesman, “we don’t want _your_ money. We want the _bank’s_ money. Keep your wallets in your pockets, but send your phones in my direction.”

When a man hesitates amidst the clatter of phones hitting ground, Richie presses the gun harder into Kate’s head. She squeezes out some tears and sobs high and thready. “If you don’t want this lovely young lady’s death on your hands, I suggest you listen to my brother,” Richie says.

           

They get out without any bumps or scrapes, Kate bouncing with adrenaline. They stop for the night in a cheap motel, pay with cash. She doesn’t think to ask for a room of her own, and when she walks in and sees the double beds she only pauses for a moment.

“I get window,” she says, dropping down and bouncing off the hard mattress.

Seth and Richie file in after her, Seth carrying the duffle of money and Richie with a little red rolling suitcase. Kate wants to laugh, but he’d get offended so she doesn’t.

Seth shrugs and tosses the duffle on the tiny, wobbly table. “I get first shower.”

“Don’t use up all the hot water,” Richie says without any real heat. She can tell they’ve argued about it so long it’s more habit than any real annoyance at work.

She’ll build herself into their habits, she decides. That way, they can’t get rid of her. She’ll never be bored again.

 

Four jobs later, Richie kills a man, a security guard who tried to be a hero. Kate was standing near him when it happened, and the spray of blood on her face nearly made her drop her gun.

Later, when she’s scrubbing and scrubbing in the sink, Seth hangs on the door, looking tired and drawn. “You can leave,” he says. “You can still get out. They know we have a female accomplice but they don’t know it’s you. We can drop you home or – or anywhere you want to be, with enough money to live big or go to school, or whatever you want to do.”

Kate looks at herself in the mirror, at the blood dried in her hair and the curve of her ear. She blinks slow, takes a deep breath, and turns to him, fists her hands in his shirt. “Don’t try and get rid of me,” she says and drags him down into a kiss. It’s a vicious sort of kiss, hard and full of teeth, and when he tries to pull away she sinks her teeth into his lip until she tastes blood. “I’m in it till the end,” she says when she releases him, his lip bright red and his eyes wild.

He touches his lip and blinks at the blood. She’s never kissed him before, barely touched him and it takes him a moment to process it. She can tell when he does, because he looks up at her and crowds her back into the sink until she’s caged by his arms and his too-bright eyes, porcelain digging into her lower back.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he whispers before kissing her. His hand settles on her hip, and she can feel the warm wetness of his blood on her skin.

There’s a sound outside the door and she pulls back for air. Richie stares at them, face unreadable. “Isn’t there a song about this?”

Seth grunts. “You planning on killing me?”

“That’s only if he can’t have me,” Kate says, and she can feel her lips twist into a cruel smile. “And who said that?”

She doesn’t know who she is anymore, but when Richie takes a faltering step forward, she doesn’t care. Instead, she reaches out her hand and takes his, pulls him into this tiny warm space, and it feels like victory.


	4. Leverage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of trouble figuring out how to make this from Kate's pov and also I'm not clever enough to write a good Leverage style heist, but I had a lot of fun and it kept growing, so I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Pandemonium Industries was housed in a skyscraper. Kate had expected Pandemonium Industries to only use a few floors, but no. No, it’s all Pandemonium. The thought makes bile rise in her throat as she stares at the stunningly beautiful woman before her.

“My father dedicated his life to your cause,” she says, numb.

Santanico shakes her head, earrings tinkling. “Your father was a valued employee, but our policy is clear. It was an accidental death, Kate. I’m sorry for your loss, but you have to understand my position.”

Kate stares at the desk, a silky red wood she couldn’t name. Her chest hurts. Her chest has hurt for the past two weeks. “I understand,” she says, and stands. “Thank you for your time.”

Santanico rises with her, walks her to the door. “I really am sorry, Kate. If it’s not too forward, I’d like to recommend a grief counselor.” She presses a business card into Kate’s hand, curls Kate’s hand over it, winks.

Kate stares at her, and Santanico ushers her out. “Promise me you’ll give him a call,” she says.

“I promise,” Kate says.

Santanico dimples at her and shuts the door in her face. Kate slips the card into her pocket without looking at it and takes the elevator down. A large man gets on the floor after her, stands too close. Kate shrinks in on herself but doesn’t say anything. There’s been a lot of large men coming by lately, and they’ve had a lot to say about Scott and guardianship.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” the man says when she gets off. When she glances at him he smiles. His teeth are very even, very white, very sharp. She shudders and steps away. He lets her go, smiling all the while.

She doesn’t look at the card until she gets home. Scott’s at a friend’s house, probably playing some new game she’d never be able to buy him. She doesn’t begrudge him that. Just because her life has become an unending stream of stress doesn’t mean his should, too.

The card is simple and sturdy, white cardstock with _Los Hermanos_ printed in the center in black. She lives too close to the border to not know what that means, so what she Googles is _Los Hermanos_ grief counseling. There’s one relevant result and when she looks at it, it’s generic and pretty, lots of stock photographs and an About page that could have been written for every single counseling site ever made. Why would Santanico recommend them?

There’s no names on the card or the website, so she takes a deep breath and grits her teeth and calls the number. It rings twice before a man answers.

“ _Los Hermanos_ ,” he says. “How may I help you?”

“Um,” she says and wishes she’d made a list of questions, because she can’t remember a single one. “Santanico gave me your number?”

There’s a long pause, and then he sighs, or laughs, or both. “She did? Well, the question stands, Miss. How may I help you?”

“My father just died,” she says. “It was ruled an accident, but I don’t think it was. I, uh, I’m not sure how you can help me? Santanico just made me promise to call.”

“Oh, we can help,” he says, and she can hear the smile. “It’d be better if we could meet you in person, though. Do you want to come to us or have a house call?”

“I’ll come to you,” she says without hesitation. No matter how highly recommended they are, she doesn’t want strangers in her house. “What’s the address?”

 

The day of her appointment comes faster than she thought was possible. She takes the bus and finds a building as generic as their website. At the door, she clutches her purse strap, takes a deep breath and heads in. They’re on the second floor and she takes the creaky elevator up. There’s an unmanned front desk and Kate glances around. She doesn’t see anyone, but there’s an oil painting of a snake charmer behind the desk. It’s the only thing that stands out at all. Otherwise, there’s a couple potted plants and a couple over stuffed chairs.

She steps up the desk and tries to peer down the hallway. Nothing. There’s a bell on the desk, but ringing bells to get someone’s attention has always made Kate hideously uncomfortable.

“Hello?” she calls instead. There’s no answer, so she raises her voice. “Hello?”

A door in the hallway swings open and a man in most of a three piece suit hurries out. He’s lost the jacket somewhere, and the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up, revealing part of a tattoo. Black flames licking up from his wrist. Kate bites the inside of her cheek.

“Hey,” he says. “You’re Kate?”

Kate nods jerkily. “And you are?”

“Seth,” he says, sticking out a hand for her to shake. It’s the arm with the tattoo and Kate looks at it hard while she shakes his hand. She’s never really had a thing for tattoos, but she could learn. “Seth Gecko. I think you spoke to my brother?”

“ _Los Hermanos_ Gecko?” Kate says. “Rolls off the tongue. I didn’t think you’d actually be brothers.”

“Well,” Seth says, with a shrug. “Come on, we have a very nice conference room with very nice chairs that we don’t use often enough.”

He leads her to the room he came out of. There’s another man at the head of the table, feet up and eyes closed. As Seth passes him, he shoves the man’s feet off the table and his eyes snap open. They’re a clear blue. “Hey!” he snaps and Seth waves away the annoyance.

“We have company, brother. At least try to look professional,” he says as he settles in a chair with the missing jacket draped over the back.

The brother does look professional, or like a Bible salesman, buttoned all the way up and with a sort of intensity in his gaze that Kate’s only ever seen in church before.

“Sorry,” he says, utterly insincere. “I’m Richie. You’re Kate?”

“Yeah,” she says and takes a chair equidistant from the both of them. “So how are you going to help me? Gotta be honest, none of this looks like grief counseling.”

“That’s because we’re not grief counseling,” Richie says. “We’re basically Robin Hood.”

“Think Errol Flynn, not Russel Crowe,” Seth says. Kate hasn’t seen either version so she ignores him.

“I think I need a better explanation than that.”

“We help those who cannot help themselves,” Seth says, with a grand hand gesture that strikes Kate as practiced. Does he do it in front of the mirror, just trying to figure out what angle looks best? she wonders. “Corporations steal from the little people. We steal it back.”

“And how does that help me?” Kate says, digging her nails into her knees.

“Santanico wouldn’t have pointed you to us if we couldn’t,” Richie says. She meets his eyes, has to struggle to keep from flicking hers away. “Now tell us, what happened and what do you want?”

“My father,” she starts and stops, has to swallow past a lump in her throat. “My father was a pastor attached to Pandemonium Industries. He worked overseas most of the time, with one of their, uh, I’m not sure the technical term? Mercenaries I guess? Men with guns and a lot of anger issues. He was supposed to just give succor to those tortured men and the men they tortured, but, uh.” Her mouth feels sticky and her eyes are brimming with tears. She pauses and tries to wipe them away discreetly. She doesn’t want to cry in front of these men. She bites her tongue and focuses on the pain, already fading. “He was killed four weeks ago. I found out ten days ago. They said it was accidental, but I got a look at the autopsy reports, and,” she takes a deep breath, “he was tortured. By his own people. I want…” She looked at her hands in her lap, then up. She met Seth’s gaze first, then Richie’s. “I want everyone to know what Pandemonium Industries is doing. I want them to know whatever my father was killed to cover up. As God is my witness, the entire world will see or I will die trying.”

She forces her shoulders back, imagines steel in her spine. It feels a little ridiculous to say it all out loud, but these men call themselves Robin Hood, so. And if they won’t help her, she’ll find someone who will.

After a long moment, Seth smiles at her. “We can manage that. You don’t fuck around, do you, Miss Fuller?”

She lifts her chin. “What is the point of a world without justice, Mr. Gecko?”

Richie smiles at the corner of her vision and she turns to him. “We’ve never been big on justice, ourselves, but maybe that’s just because we’ve never seen it. We’ll get you your justice, Miss Fuller.”

She breathes out and feels like she’s sinking back into her body, tired and scared and human. “What will you do?”

Richie shrugs. “We’ll have to think on it, but it shouldn’t be too hard to cause a scandal or a leak and discredit them.”

“And what will I owe you?”

“Nothing,” Seth says, as Richie opens his mouth. “We operate on an alternative revenue stream.”

“But we’d be happy if you’d grace us with your presence,” Richie says and his teeth are white and sharp.

Seth closes his eyes with a pained smile and when he opens them he says, “You can go home and go on with your life and wait for us to call you, if you want.”

“If you don’t, and you’d like a lot more money for a lot less work, we’re hiring. You may have noticed we don’t have anyone out front at the moment—“

“That’s because your weird snake thing freaked the last one out,” Seth says, voice hard and quiet.

Richie rolls his eyes. “The offer stands, Miss Fuller.”

Kate forces a smile. “Thanks, Mr. Gecko. I’ll keep that in mind.” She flees before they can say anything else. When she gets on the bus she snags a window seat and leans her forehead against the cool glass. What is Santanico doing?

 

When she gets home, Scott jumps to his feet, eyes wide. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“What?” Kate slings her purse over the couch. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the man that came over and asked about your health. It was very threatening, Kate! I felt threatened!”

“Shit,” she says. Swearing still feels strange on her tongue, but she’s getting used to it more and more, now that Daddy’s dead. “What did he look like?”

“Douchey,” Scott says, sinking back into his seat. They’ll have to sell the house soon, and get something smaller so they’re both taking advantage of what they have while they have it. “He had short black hair and a beard and an accent.”

“What type of accent?” Kate toes her shoes off and throws herself down on the couch. She has to shift and move her purse where it’s jabbing her in the side.

“I dunno. Mexican, Spanish, he rolled his R’s.”

Kate tries to picture him and can’t. She sighs and grabs her phone, calls _Los Hermanos_. “Hey,” she says when the ringing stops, before he has a chance to speak.

“Miss Fuller,” Richie says. “I wasn’t expecting an answer so soon.”

“Cute,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Some guy came by and threatened my brother earlier. So, you know, make it snappy.”

Richie doesn’t say anything for a long moment, then, “We will, Miss Fuller.”

 

She spends the next three days in a state of high agitation, twitching whenever there’s a sound she didn’t expect. It gets on Scott’s nerves quickly and they start snapping at each other almost constantly. The Geckos don’t call. Santanico doesn’t call.

On the fourth day, her phone rings and she leaps to answer it. “What?” she says.

Seth’s voice is pained on the other end. “There’s been a problem. Can you come to our office as soon as possible?”

“A problem? What kind of problem?” She starts to pace, phone clutched to face.

“A big one,” Seth says. “But don’t worry your pretty little head over it. It won’t affect you or your brother. Just, get over here.”

“Fine,” she says. “Okay. Give me half an hour.”

 

It’s almost painful to take the bus when she’s in such a hurry, but it’s not like there’s any other way to get there, so she perches rigidly in the hard plastic seat, almost vibrating with suppressed motion. A man sits next to her, handsome enough, she supposes, but cruel looking and she gets more rigid. He has short black hair and a beard, but many men have short black hair and beards.

“Hello, Miss Fuller,” he says, and no, no it’s definitely the guy who came by and threatened Scott the other day. She turns to him slowly and deliberately.

“You’re from Pandemonium Industries, I presume,” she says, tightly.

He smiles wide, and it looks more like a baring of teeth. “Why would you say that? No, Miss Fuller, I am just a concerned citizen. I see you sit so rigid here, so angry and fearful, and I worry. How are you, Miss Fuller?” He lets the smile drop away. It’s not better. “How would you like to be?”

She doesn’t let herself look away from his too-intense gaze. “Left alone,” she says and the side of his mouth quirks up in an insincere grin.

“How funny, then, that that is Pandemonium Industries dearest wish as well. I think, Miss Fuller, that it would be very easy to make both of those wishes come true.”

_Fuck you_ hovers on her tongue and she swallows it down with difficulty. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you mean,” she says instead. “How could little old me do anything to hurt Pandemonium Industries? And besides, I don’t think I should be talking business with a concerned citizen.”

He sighs a little, and leans forward to hiss in her ear, “Whatever you think you’re doing, I recommend you stop. Immediately.” She clenches her jaw and he stands. “Ah, here is my stop.”

She watches him get off. Even on the crowded bus, no one bumps into him. They part around him without seeming to notice it’s happening and Kate feels sick to her stomach.

As he waves at her from the ground as the bus pulls away, Kate realizes he’s gotten off at her stop. She swears, massages her neck, and goes two more before turning around and walking back to Los Hermanos’s office. It’s a long walk in uncomfortable shoes, almost twenty minutes and she’s furious by the time she gets to their door.  
She stomps up the stairs and slams into the office. There’s still no one at the desk and she doesn’t bother with the bell, just heads back towards the conference room she was in last time. When she throws the door open, the boys look up at her, startled. Richie is shirtless and bloody, Seth holding a needle.

“What,” she says.

Seth hands Richie the needle that, yes, yes it’s attached to him by ugly black thread, and stands, ushering her away from the door. “Now Princess,” he says, flapping his bloody hands at her. “It’s considered good form to knock, and I know that you’re really a very polite person, so why the hell are you late and angry?”

She sucks on her bottom lip and sees him glance at her mouth. “Well,” she says, feeling very small. “There was a man on the bus. From Pandemonium Industries. He got off here, so I had to go a few more stops and walk back.”

Seth drags a hand down his face and hisses in annoyance once he realizes he’s smeared Richie’s blood on himself. He takes the gloves off with a snap and she follows him as he heads to a bathroom. As he washes his hands he says, “Okay, tell me what happened.”

“I already did,” she says and he dampens a paper towel and wipes the blood from his forehead. “Why does it look like Richie got stabbed?”

“Because Richie got stabbed. My idiot brother doesn’t know how to shut his fucking mouth,” Seth says and Kate thinks about pointing out the hypocrisy there but decides against it. “Don’t worry about it, he’s had worse.”

“That’s not the comforting sentence you think it is,” Kate says, tilting her head. “Why did he get stabbed?”

“I told you, he doesn’t know how to shut up.”

“Yes,” Kate says. “And now I’d like you to tell me the truth.”

Seth sneers at her. “Fine, whatever. He was scoping out security on Pandemonium Industries and he got made by an old friend.”

“Good friend,” she says as they head back to the conference room.

“The best,” Richie says, with a smile. She should be annoyed at how laidback he is about a stab wound, but she can’t muster the energy. “But that’s why we called you. Turns out we can’t actually do this job with two. How good of a liar are you?”

“Better than my daddy thought I was,” Kate says and takes a seat as Seth pulls on new gloves and takes the needle back. It’s big and curved and she has to look away as it starts its steady march through Richie’s skin.

Richie grins at her. “Good start. Two truths and a lie. I’ve never been hospitalized, my favorite color is green, and I have a pet snake.”

She stares at him for a moment as Seth laughs quietly. “Are we in middle school? Is that what’s happening here?”

“Just do it,” Richie says.

Kate heaves a sigh. “Fine. You’ve been hospitalized, but not for long, if Seth’s face is anything to go by.”

“Right. You go.” Richie twists to flick Seth on the side of the head. “And work on your poker face.”

Kate thinks for a moment. “I’m Catholic, my first kiss was under the bleachers freshman year, and I’m going to college for English.”

“The Catholic thing,” Richie says.

“Nah,” Seth says. “The college thing.”

“You’re both right,” she says. “They were all lies. Can we hurry this along now?”

Seth opens his mouth, then closes it, amused. Richie tilts his head at her.

“All right, Princess,” Seth says. “You want in, you’re in.”

 

They talk at her for the next two hours, telling her exactly what it is they do and what their plan is for helping her, and how Richie got stabbed. Her mouth falls open early on and doesn’t close until Seth reaches over and pushes it shut.

They’re criminals, which she knew. They’ve always been criminals, and only recently got into this business of helping people. The reason Santanico knows them is because she’s playing a long game of some sort, they don’t know what, and she gave them the idea and got them started. They don’t know what she wants in return just yet, but Richie seems positively rapturous at the idea of finding out.

Richie’s the better thief, but Seth’s the better grifter. They used to work with a woman, Vanessa, but she and Seth had an ugly falling out. Since then, Los Hermanos Gecko have been having difficulty. Two people isn’t quite enough for plans of the complexity they have to use sometimes. Like the one they’re using to get into Pandemonium Industries.

The idea was for Seth to go in as an interested investor while Richie cased the place, but Richie got spotted near the safe and on that floor the guards carry knives and guns, not pepper spray and batons.

If she’s working with them though, well. And that’s when Richie smiles at her and her stomach sinks.

 

Kate clutches at her purse in a show of nerves that’s less than half faked as she sits in a waiting room in Pandemonium Industries.

They let her sit and stew for an hour before the man from the bus comes out. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Miss Fuller,” he says. “What a pleasure.”

“I’ve talked to a lawyer,” she says, chin up. “I would recommend you talk to me before he talks to you.”

The man tsks and she wants to throttle him. “Miss Fuller,” he says. “Lawyers are so…messy. Why don’t we just talk, and I’m sure we can reach an agreement.”

 

The man’s name is Carlos Madrigal, and he’s a tool. Kate’s Daddy wouldn’t like her having such uncharitable thoughts, but she’s sure God will forgive her this sin. Carlos has the most insincere smile Kate has ever seen on a human being, and Carlos would like for her to just take a little while to think things over, and Carlos offers her threats like gifts, wrapped up in pretty language. Carlos would be hurt if she called a lawyer, but if she does, he’ll drown her in legal fees. Carlos wants to be friends, and if she can’t be friends, well, she doesn’t want to be enemies, does she?

She walks out of the meeting desperately in need of a shower. Kate manages to hold onto that feeling all the way out of the building, and then a couple more blocks away. Once she’s safe, she smiles and heads for a coffee shop.

She gets a muffin and a mocha and settles into a table in the back corner with a book, and waits.

 

Twenty minutes later, Santanico walks in, wearing jeans and a black tank top. Out of her business attire, Santanico looks like some sort of ideal for angry teens to strive for, her lipstick perfect and her hair artfully tousled.

“I’m glad you called them,” Santanico says as she settles across from Kate.

“Why did you need me to do it?” Kate asks, putting her book aside.

“Carlos watches me like a hawk,” she says with a pretty pout. “I could not call them or go to them, but I can speak to you, _más querida_. Carlos will think I am trying to convince you of our rightness, and so the Lords will not be angered.”

“The Lords?”

“Richard didn’t tell you?” Santanico clicks her tongue. “The true owners of my company. They think that controlling my money means they control me, but they are wrong.”

“You want revenge too,” Kate says, feeling stupid.

“Of course, _querida_ ,” Santanico says with a smile. “Who wouldn’t?”

They talk a bit longer, not about business, but about silly things, like clothes and sports and Kate’s plans for school, and then someone turns up the volume on the TV in the corner and they hear, “…explosion rocked Pandemonium Industries just ten minutes ago! Firefighters are on the scene, but there’s been an altercation with the security guards!”

When Kate turns back, Santanico has a cruel smile setting off her dimples. Kate shivers. Santanico looks at her, eyes drawn by the movement, and the smile stays in place.

“I am free at last.” She says it like a prayer.

Kate understands that, nods.

 

A week later, Kate settles in at the front desk of Los Hermanos, rolling her eyes whenever she hears Richie lording his victory over Seth.


End file.
